


Your Secret Is Safe With Me

by baeberiibungh



Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Acephobia, Angels, Angst, Asexual Sam Winchester, Coping, Counselling, Dean Is human, Eater of flesh, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Humans, Hunters, I am running out of ideas as to what to tag, Intersepcies, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Memories, Meta if you squint, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Open Marriage, Parties, Pie, Polyamory, Scowly McScowly, Sexual freedom, Smiles, Suicide attemp, Tears, Tendrils, Tentacles, Triads, Weddings, Wendigo Hannibal, Werewolves, Will is human, bansees, canonical death, cos she's a badass, counsellor - Freeform, couples therapy, established relationships - Freeform, only a bit, plant god, pseudo-bestiality, repressed feelings, save Lydia, sexual choice, stiles is human, suicide ideation, talking about suicide, the other characters are only metioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:58:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is an empath and a counselor for interspecies couple on the sly, usually referred to him by his husband Hannibal. His newest patients, one covered in freckles and one in moles, are just two in a long list of people Will has set out to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The room where Will takes in his clients is drawn in muted colours, coffee and light brown with splashes of yellow and red from the paintings that he hangs around. The room is mostly bare, with two couches, one armchair, one table and two chairs before them. The messiness prevalent however makes it cozy rather than sterile. The shades are pulled back so that the sunlight can stream in and that is the only light in the room, casting the rest of in soft shadows. Will is sitting on the arm chair and looking neutrally at the man before him. Older than him, with spiked hair and a leather jacket that he refused to take off, he seems agitated below a surface of clearly controlled image.

Will is good at what he does, and is acclaimed at undertaking interspecies couple. His forte is where one of the partners at least is a human. While he finds starting with the initial client who comes to him with whatever problem easy, couples therapy is the way the problem ultimately gets resolved, but not always. As such, Will has met various kinds of species sitting at his chairs while they expressed their side of the problem, and the list seems to increase every now and then. He has conversed with vampires, banshees, witches, trolls, orcs, hunters in relationships with the things they hunt, canines, lupines and more. He knows that his current client is a hunter, and is in a long relationship with a .... something. He refuses to clarify what exactly.

Will does not push. Supernatural is not a known factor in the common world. It is not Will’s job to catalogue them after all. He is merely to be of service of the human counterparts in the said relationships. What he does know is that his present client’s partner is not from an ordinary run of the mill species. The effect of bonding with such a creature is rather explicit in Will’s eyes, but since his client does not bring it up, Will does not either. His job is to see that the relationship flourishes, irrespective of species. He does make it sure that all the partners are willing and have given their explicit consent. He refuses to cater to paedophiles and gross people into mere bestiality and animal abuse. 

It is his 3rd session with this client, Dean, no last name give, but since all the clients that Will gets are carefully vetted by Hannibal, he is at ease. Dean’s internalised homophobia, his ongoing fight to accept his own bi-ness and his relationship with his family as well as his partner has already been brought out to the table as Dean has talked and talked about his childhood. The things that he did not say, about how homophobic and generally abusive his father had been, how he and his brother had survived with next to nothing family support, how Dean may or may not have had to do questionable and underage things not only to look after himself, but his brother and father as well had been evident to Will. 

“I don’t think he deliberately set out to fuck us up the way he did, you know, anything planned or the like, but he did let us slide, let us go down the paths he should have known better, and perhaps did. He kept on this facade up that he cares about us and loves us and wants us out of harm’s way, but mostly, we were harmed because of him, how he used to disappear for days and sometimes weeks, and hell, two and three times even months, and then he would come back, no explanation in sight, not that we dared to ask, and it would be a normal thing. Leaving two young children to fend for themselves and lobbing high standards and ultimatums on them as to when to ask for help – only with death,” Dean says with a hand running through his hair, looking sad.

“He didn’t have any friends, he had hunter friends, like how soldiers have friends in the battle field, the mad kind, where they make up battle cries to go charging and killing off people and they thump their chest together, but other than the bloodlust they actually share nothing else? He was like that I think. He had people he could hunt with and those he couldn’t hunt with and that was it. He had this idealised idea of mom, because it made it easy to idealise himself too, lie to himself how in love both were, because I was there for the fights, and I shouldn’t really remember I was so young but I do, I do. And he built such a beautiful world out of these lies, that he, even I fed to Sam that eventually that became the truth. Even when I remembered, it remained the truth for Sammy,” Dean continued.

“Do you think your brother knows?” Will asks here.

“I... don’t know. I never told him. And he never asks, maybe he doesn’t think about it or maybe he has come to his own conclusions. I can, I can tell him the truth now, how it actually was, but I can’t seem to make it, and that, that is so much the problem. With Cas I mean. I think he knows everything. He kind of, um, like built me up back again when I shattered, due to a mental breakdown (Dean looks shifty as he rushes through this, but Will makes no comment), and he knows a lot, a lot more than he lets on and I can’t even speak with Sammy about these things, how do I bring it up with Cas when he knows just about everything. And it’s not how it’s like with Sammy either, Cas knows the truth, the actual truth about everything, not just what I can remember through the age goggles and lie one as well, and I feel, it feels like once I acknowledge this, everything will just crumble. I. Just. Aargh...” Dean drags out while he pulls on his hair in brisk movements. 

Will immediately stands up and hands him a green lumpy mass looking like some kind of gel and Dean accepts it slowly, leaving his hair aside. He pokes it and his finger just goes in. He kneads it and pulls it and stretches it and it reverts back to its original shapeless form. He puts it in his palm and makes a tight fist around it and it just oozes out. It is slimy to touch like rubber but not exactly oily or wet. He plays with it for a minute before seemingly remembering that Will too is in the room. He is again looking at him with a neutral face, that does not seem forced, but as if that how is about everything. 

“You fear that accepting your own history is going to do what exactly? I mean I am assuming that your partner knows whatever he knows by the use of his, ah, abilities, and remains with you, which means, or implies that he is already OK with whatever from your past that you are struggling against. So, what seems to be pulling you back, exactly?” Will asks mildly.

Dean just about explodes. He says, “He doesn’t understand! His understanding of human emotions and motivations are crap! He may objectively know everything that is to know about me, but, but he does not know what all of that shit means. He does not know what an action implies, how some of the things I have done are so so bad, and I feel, I think, that once he actually realises the part of my past as the way they mean, as the mistakes they actually are that I should have known better not to commit, that he will, finally understand how, what I am, I, that, you know, that, that.... that I don’t actually deserve him. That as much as he seems to want me now, present perfect, once he realises what I am, he will, he can, just leave.”

“How sure are to as to the understanding of you partner regarding your so ‘mistakes you should have known better’? You admit that you don’t talk about your past, so how are you sure that he understands the things not the way things they are? Or that he doesn’t understand them the same way you seem to understand them?” Will asks.

Dean gapes at him for a few seconds, then says, “Because if he did, he would have been gone by now. No one needs to be anywhere near that kind of shit.”

“Your argument here is that you are sure that if your partner knew he would immediately leave. You however do not know if he knows or not. You are acting on the possibility that he would indubitably leave in case he comes to know. This is your though on the matter that does not actually seem to indicate anything about how your partner may actually react in case he does know all about the things you say he cannot understand in the way you do. Nowhere in this is your partner actively giving his opinion on the matter. You are giving it, as him, for him. How would you even know what he thinks about it without asking?” Will asks a mite forcefully, but more in the way of getting the point across rather than making a point himself. 

Dean looks very shocked at this. As if this thought has never come to him before. That Cas leaving is an inevitable outcome anyway his life progresses. 

“Let me ask this in another way. If Cas were the one who did all those mistakes, preventable ones according to you, the same as you, change your positions between the two of you so as to speak, would you leave Cas just because you found out what you have done in the past?” Will asks.

“Of course not,” Dean answers empathically. 

“So why do you think he could? You cannot forgive yourself for your past, but have no qualms about forgiving Cas for the same. Does it mean that you yourself as a person is unlovable, that you are bad beyond recovery, beyond love, that you have no redeemable qualities, that it is shocking that an another being loves you for who you are, past, present and future included? You know he loves you, but you seem to be under the impression that under the right conditions, conditions that are automatically stacked against you, he will realise that it is futile or a mistake to love you, and leave you. This is not the truth. This is a projection of your insecurities, of your line of thought ‘better now that later’. This is you making yourself deliberately unhappy over things that may never come to pass,” Will says, with lesser restraint than usual. 

The way Dean has described the things, they have hit things rather close for Will. Perhaps it would be a good thing to call the session to an end to deliberate things before the next session. He certainly had stepped over a few lines in today’s session. 

Dean is looking at his clasped hands hanging between his knees. Will clears his throat, and says, “I am sorry, I got carried away. That was highly unprofessional of me. Let me refurbish this session, and in case you decide to come back again, I will be keeping your appointment for the next week.”

Dean shakes his head and says, “No, I, I didn’t mind. I guess I needed to hear that. I. Yes I will come next week. I have a few things to think about. I have, I have to talk with Cas too. I will come for my next session yes. Have a good day Dr Graham.” Saying so, Dean walked to the door and let himself out. Will gave a big sigh and mentally debated whether to call off all of today’s session as well. No, he decided. He had already failed one of his clients who required his help; he would not do the same to others. He tidied his room a bit, updated his files on Dean and his progress and even his mistake. 

25 minutes after Dean had left, there was a tiny knock on his front door. Will got up and opened it to see a fairly young man with a buzzed head and moles dotting his face. “Please come in Stiles,” said Will ushering the man in who refused to be called by either his actual name or his surname. “Nice to see you Doc,” came the cheeky reply with an even cheekier grin. Will felt himself relax and be lulled by Stiles’s inane chatter before the session would officially start.


	2. Chapter 2

Will likes Stiles and is equally frustrated with him. While Dean gives a lot away by omitting things or refusing to talk about a particular matter, Stiles speaks a lot, but he does not give much away that he doesn’t want to give. Will is sure that Stiles’ partner Derek is a werewolf, as Stiles was recommended by Dr Lydia Martin, another interspecies specialist, concentrating more on non-human couples. She herself is a banshee, but her boyfriend is not human, that is all he knows. What he knows is that she is close with a local group of werewolves and Stiles is a human member from the same pack. 

With Stiles, Will has come to be able to discern as to how much of it is filler, and how much of it is meat. To his dismay, the ratio sticks around at 90%/10% or 100% blathering of nothing specific. Stiles was recommended for sessions when it came to light that he was getting himself in risky situations deliberately. His masochistic tendencies had always been know, but this time, he was stepping over lines and limits that even the weres would think twice about passing. Derek had begged on his knees with tears in his eyes for him to at least give the counselling a try, backed by his father the Sheriff. 

It took Will a record number of sessions to get this much information out of him. He was imbibed with news of everyone in the pack, even though Stiles never straight out said anything about pack or werewolves. Sometimes Will would feel like he is in the middle of some novel, getting a dose of gossip from the neighbourhood belle. Direct questioning would result in retractions, misdirections and plain ole refusal to comply. And Stiles was too smart and intelligent to try any inverse line of enquiry, not that those helped. Will may have been the counsellor, but Stiles did his utmost to run the session as he see fit.

Will had been already planning to try some unorthodox methods to temper the young lad, but that day, after what had happened with Dean, Will felt restless to let all the caution out of the window and let it roll.

“Stiles,” Will says, as Stiles turns to him and hums a question, “What do you think will happen if in a bid to save you from some foolhardy scheme you concoct up, one or some of your friends end up losing their life?”

Stiles stares at him, mouth open, shocked at what Will said. He quickly snaps it shut and an ugly look of anger and disdain pass over his face before he says, “I will never let that happen.”

“You cannot possibly know that. You have a loyal group of friends devoted to you as you are to them. Should anything happen to you, they will make sure that they have done anything and everything in their grasp and ability to save you. Even if it leads to the death or harm for them. And you will be dead anyway. What would you be able to do to stop them to do something bad to even perhaps bring you back?” Will asks in a composed tone.

Stiles actually snarls at that and says, “I will NEVER let anything like that happen, I will make sure of it.”

“But you will be dead. Gone. Or hurt so grievously that you might as well as be dead. You will be able to do nothing at all. Nothing on this earth, heaven or hell, Stiles. Are you aware of that simple factoid?” Will asks him, looking into his eyes without blinking.

Stiles is taking big deep breaths, as if trying to control his anger. His nose flares at every exhale. And Will feels remorseful again. Today is not going well for him. He will call off his other appointments for today. This is no way for a counsellor to behave, unable to deal with his clients serenely as he is meant to but getting involved too much beyond what is ethical. Will tunes back into the session and sees Stiles biting his lips so hard that it is bleeding and his eyes are swimming in tears. O great, Will thinks. I actually managed to make the boy cry. Great going Will, great going. Better to nail the coffin some more.

Will sights, leans towards Stiles who is standing behind the sofa and asks in a soft voice without inflection, “How long have you been suicidal Stiles?”

Tears start streaming from his eyes as his face scrunches up, snot dripping from his nose like a little kid and eyes so sad and full and scared that Will wants to get up and hug the man. He however refrains. Stiles gets himself under control and then flops onto the sofa and looks at Will with a sadness that Will was hardly able to recognise before under his mask.

“It was.... after my mother. I. She died when I was 8. And it was a long and bewildering death you know, at the last moment, it was the body of my mother, but the disease has deteriorated her brain so much that it was not really my mother anymore, but I cried when she dies, I cried for days, remembering kissing her brow and how it felt under my lips, damp and papery like a doll and not a living being, and, I don’t know, It made me sad in a way I couldn’t articulate, or talk about and made me want to die. I... I remember this one time when I took out my dad’s gun and placed it in my mouth and I sat like that for half an hour I think. I almost pulled the trigger too, but every time I tried, I would see in my mind how my dad would look if he found me like that, and finally I couldn’t. That was the first and last time I ever tried to do anything like that,” Stiles sniffs, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“And your father never found out? He never had a clue? Neither Scott or Derek?” Will asks.

“Dad. Dad may have noticed something but he was too busy to actually do something about it. Or maybe he thought ignoring it would make the whole thing go away. He did make me go to counselling when I started having the panic attacks, which started with me getting sudden images of me dying in every possible way and I would think to stop myself, except that it would feel so inevitable, I, I was helped by therapy by a lot, but even then I don’t think Dad actually knew the extent of my... wishes I guess. Scott though, he knew a bit, but again did not know how to help except by being there, even when my dad couldn’t be because of his job. And he helped. Not in the way that was very informed, or anything, but he stuck with me through all my rough patches and I think I am alive now because of him,” Stiles adds, picking at his nails as he explains.

“You did not say if Derek knows or not. Or do you not know that?” Will asks again.

Stiles gives a long sigh and says, “He knows, I am sure he knows, which is why he has been so adamant and desperate for me to have these sessions.” Stiles bites his lips and says, “I think he knows so well because he used to be too, you know. Like he can see me be in the same place he was in, and that freaks him out. And it’s not like I am actually going to do something. I just am, I am not going to do it, and they should know that. I don’t get what the big deal is. I mean yeah, I have been reckless recently, but given the life we lead, it is not that strange you know. I mean, they have like their powers, but I don’t have any, so there is an imbalance, but given how long we have been fighting together or so, it’s too late for me to just sit in the sidelines while they do all the work. I am in the team and damn if I am going to remain as the puny and weak human to stay behind.”

Stiles is practically fuming by this point. His anger at his situation is visible and acceptable, not the way he is coping with them. Will says, “You may not be doing anything, like taking a knife and trying to use yourself as a dartboard, but you are needlessly putting yourself in danger. Dangers that you don’t have to face. Avoiding which does not immediately means that you are weaker or defenceless. You are more intelligent. Or is this your way to perhaps gain similar physical attributes that your partner and friends have? Have they refused to let you join them should you transform?”

“I do not want the bite,” Stiles says very firmly, and the looks at Will in worry as to what he might make out of such an odd line. Will gives him an encouraging nod to continue. Stiles looks at him and then continues, “I don’t want the powers they have. I mean the offer is not explicitly stated but most of them think that is it inevitable and that, its' just a matter of time before I ask. But, you know how they say, with great power must come great responsibility, (Will’s brows creases at that, unable to remember any such quote he might have come across) anyway, it’s like if I were to become like them, there is a good possibility that I would have a lot less control. I mean you have heard me talk, how I can’t stop some days, and I think, I feel like that will make me loose even more control myself.”

Stiles looks like he is reliving some memory as he says, “I remember this time once, when I went to somewhere with my dad, I don’t remember what it was, maybe it was the last time we went to church, or maybe some funeral, I really don’t remember. My dad had to leave me in the crowd of the people sitting, and I didn’t really know anyone, and oh this was after my mom had died. So, this old lady tries to be kind and asks me something, like how I am doing or whatever, and then I start talking, and talking and I couldn’t stop and I wanted to shut my eyes away to stop looking except I couldn’t do that either, and, and I could see all of these people, people I did not know or recognise, their face turning into this identical look of horror and people discreetly but not that discreetly pulling their chairs away from me and I am just a kid and I couldn’t stop talking, and someone had to actually call my dad to calm me down and tears were running down my face and that still is one of the worst memory of my life.”

“I had no control, none, and that is me at being a human and yes I know it is a chemical issue that can be controlled with meds, but say I transform and then it turns out that it is not so much a simple ADHD thing as much as a Stiles thing and then how fucked up everyone will be? Or, or what if I end up getting what my mom had, and then I am a rampaging monster remembering nothing, no awareness of the world, what then? Derek’s uncle, who was like that from birth and he went mad, he went completely mad, so there is no guarantee that I won’t get it if I turn. So, I won’t turn, but I do want to remain of use. I have to learn, make my body be at par with my friends and become a contender in my own right, able to take on things the same as my friends, and through it all, I will fight the urge to kill myself, I will,” says Stiles. 

Will always knew that Stiles was a smart and intelligent and a fearless kid. He always knew, but hearing all of what he said just now made him glad with his estimation. Yes, he will go far indeed if he can stick by. Maybe for the next session, Will should make Stiles bring Derek with him. Maybe it is time for those sessions now. 

They talk for some more and then Stiles leaves. Will calls his other appointments, two in total and tells them that he has to cancel their sessions, and promises to get them back into schedule soon. After he is done, he cleans his room, closes all the windows and locks the door and steps out. It has been a long day and it is time he returned to Hannibal.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Will walks into the house he shares with Hannibal, the dogs come bounding to him. Now it’s just two of them, instead of the brood that Will used to own. He had to give the others away for adoption with a heavy heart, because they became afraid of Hannibal. Hannibal did not mean to scare them, but being a wendigo made them instinctively defensive. Will tried to do anything he could, giving them a room to stay in and making Hannibal agree to never go near them, but instinct still won. Hannibal put his foot down the day Will got bitten by Winston. It was then that Will carted off the ones that reacted more aggressively towards even the scent of a predator. And thus only two remained.

Putt was blind in one eye and had the biggest doggie smile ever and Marie was quite the queen. Will loved them both. Hannibal did too, in his own way. Will never had to check if their food dish or water bowl ran empty, Hannibal took care of that, and should Will be late to return home, Hannibal always took the dogs on their walk even though he did not like walking that much. He couldn’t bear to be licked by their tongues either and found their too loud barking problematic sometimes, but they made do. Sometimes Alana would come and take them away for a week should things become too much. Apparently, one of her new partner is quite fond of dogs and she likes to oblige.

Putting his bag down in the table by the door and his keys in the bowl there, he headed towards the kitchen, from where he could hear the sound of utensils and the amazing smell of something delicious cooking. Hannibal was a fantastic cook, even thought all he himself partook was raw flesh of what he could find. He was not named the eater of flesh for nothing. Disease ridden, stale, anything, so long as it was still recognisable as flesh and not a maggotpit, Hannibal could and did eat anything. That did not lessen his pleasure in making wonderful dishes to tease and taunt the taste buds of his beloved and his very few close friends. 

Right then, Hannibal was making a mouth-watering stew if Will was right with a bunch of herbs and balls of seasoned meats. He went up to Hannibal, and kissed his cheek over his shoulder on his tip toes. He was rewarded with a pleased smile at that and the chance to taste the stew while it was yet to be plated. Will declined, for he was feeling very hungry and anything Hannibal made Will always liked so it was not a good question to ask. He just couldn’t make out whether a dish required ore salt or not. Hannibal kissed his nose and sent him off to their bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. With a slight tap on Hannibal’s ass, Will headed to their room. 

The room was as minimalistic as his office. There was a huge bed that took most of the space, one side of the room completely converted into cupboards of various sizes where they kept all their clothes and toys. A mirror hung near the door and it was full length, and played an awesome part in their games. Hannibal liked to watch Will in the middle of throes while he shivered and whimpered out his moans to Hannibal. Will took a quick shower, don a soft undershirt and flannel pyjamas. They would not be going out tonight after all. 

By the time he returned to the kitchen, Hannibal had already set the small table in the kitchen opting for it instead of the big one in their dining hall. This meant that Hannibal was feeling cozy and that fun times have been planned for the night. Will liked how Hannibal let out such unsubtle hints on when anything was going to happen. It gave Will ample time to refuse or defuse the sexual expectation or get ready for it. Hannibal certainly required special requirements and arrangements for the whole thing to be such well planned and maintained. While Hannibal had no problem in copulating in his human form, he preferred his original form of a wendigo with the full rack of antlers, his featured more animalistic as his reactions.

Will had once asked as to why it was so. The antlers were not easy to grow and usually took half the night to regrow their original shape, his body would became skeletal without any fat or even nerve endings, so it should be the worse alternative to have sex in. Hannibal had said, “It might seem like the harder alternative, but for me it is the most freeing. I may be a skinwalker, but I too have an original form that which is more natural for me. The antlers, they are a matter of pride among us. When we transform into humans or anything else, it’s the antlers that help us retain and maintain our new shape, by giving us bones and knuckles and muscles that we as wendigo do not posses in our body. They are our life and should one’s ever break, even a bit, we will die a horrible death, unable to even hold a form and just ooze into the shelves of the earth till the day this planet is destroyed.”

Will had pulled Hannibal to him then, the idea of Hannibal gone horrific beyond belief. Will assured Hannibal that he would be always careful and make sure that Hannibal or his antlers are never harmed. Bringing his mind form the past Will finds Hannibal seated before him, his skin already going splotchy and darkening into a foliage of dark greens, deep blues, yellows and brown lightning streaming through and an underlying black like a spreading bruise while his horns grew minutely every minute. Will was used to it enough now that it did not even quite register. What did was the plate before Hannibal that contained not the stew he had cooked but a piece of bloody meat. Will wrinkled his nose at it, not to convey his disgust but rather the look one gives food that one if not a big fan of. Hannibal just gave a huff and ate his meal with pleasurable bites. 

“Today, I made a few mistakes in my counselling sessions. It was the hunter with freckles you sent as well as the chatterbox with the werewolves. I ended up pushing them more than I should have, not that anything bad happened. In fact something good may have happened for it. Still, I was lacking in patience. Maybe I should go for a few sessions of my own to Martin again. What do you think?” Will asked Hannibal.

Hannibal said, “The hunter is a mass of writhing contradiction of what he should and should not be or do. The other one talks enough to make the dogs seem like quite gents. I am not surprised that you ended up losing patience my love, not everything can be faced with the same level of patience after all. Still, if it made you worry, you better go for the sessions. Martin is good, even I will vouch for her, her mind is delectably sharp and selfish. People like that have no problem at pointing out the problems and giving a straight account of the possible solutions. You should definitely go for them if that is what you want.”

Hannibal was lisping by now and making an effort to enunciate each word clearly. Will helped him clean the table, washed the dishes together and after looking after the dogs both headed towards their bedroom. They were still talking about their patients, and no confidentiality were breached as both knew the patients. Hannibal was particularly interested in a client who had in fact travelled from the Congo basin in Africa for help from Will, so desperate he was for any kind of assistant he could get.

“Mr Malin is one of the sweetest man I have ever seen. His English was quite good. He had a slight problem with the pronunciation of a few words and his speech was very direct without any inflection, but really, I hope he finds the help he was looking for,” Will confides in Hannibal.

Hannibal frowned and said, “I thought you would be all the help the man required. It was certainly my understanding when I sent him to you. Why was your assistance not enough?”

Will remains silent for a few minutes as they together turn the covers down so that they can get in it. Will then says, “I looked it up on the net afterwards, after he left, because he gave me a very clear description. In Congo and Uganda, people pray to a plant god there, who apparently was responsible for the creation of the first plant. They call him Chonganda. Mr Malin informed me that his partner was possibly the same deity or a live descendent of the said deity. Human in form and stature, his partner could have intimate physical connection only via tree vines, tentacles of thick branches, and tendrils. This is no problem to Mr Malin, who find these administration pleasurable.”

“So what is making him run here?” asks Hannibal as he pulls Will towards him and covers his skin in rough kisses. 

“He is in love with a God, Hannibal. It is understandable he is intimidated,” Will gasps out due to the administration of Hannibal’s clever finger and tongue. 

After that the only sound that falls form the bed are that of skin slapping on skin, keening gasps and whimpering, mouth sucking off liquid and skin. Will is overwhelmed by what he is feeling and Hannibal is feeling raw and happy and wild and fulfilled. Finally, as he kneels between Will’s open knees and lines himself up, his antler rack in full display, his skin an uninterrupted shiny coat of black, Will whispers out, “Imagine being in love with a God.”

Hannibal grunts back, “Yes, imagine that,” and shoves in. Will cries out and comes, immediately sated and hungry for more. Hannibal hushes him with soothing sounds for the night is a long way to be over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal went a bit OOC here but still believable tho I hope.


	4. Chapter 4

Will stared as discreetly as he could at the man sitting beside Dean, his spine ramrod straight, face blank, eyes almost preternaturally blue and hair that stuck this way and that. The only indication the man gave that he had indeed came with Dean and knew him was the fact that he was basically stuck to Dean’s side and leaned slightly into Dean’s body heat as Dean did the same, perhaps unconsciously, while he ranted on and on forcefully about his brother. This was the first couple session that Will was doing with Dean and his partner, whose name Will was yet to catch. 

It took a few sessions to bring the conversation back to track after that time when Will terminated the session early. Now Dean was completely at ease at letting everything in his gut out. His partner did not seem to have anything to say himself, but he was not sitting with the air of awkwardness that partners usually wore when coming for the first couple’s therapy. Not that the man was not awkward. Will would have almost termed him autistic, given his starey eyes that blinked rarely and the way he held himself. He wasn’t even sure the man talked for he is yet to utter a word. And of course Will still had no idea at all as to what the man really was.

“I just don’t understand is all. I mean he has been with chicks before too. Jessica, Jessica was the love of his life, I get that, but he can’t just turn himself into a hermit, terming himself something as ridiculous as ‘asexual’ and then just give up. That too, when he is apparently in a so called relationship, with not one but two girls. He is already in a relationship and then he says, he fucking informs me with his best bitch face that he is an ace. Like that even exists. You are a doctor, you tell me, does it even exist? Is this my fault, with the endless fucking and womanizing when I was younger? That he sees sex as something dirty and bad, I, I, don’t understand it,” Dean finishes on a whisper.

He then continues in a subdued voice, “I looked up that stuff you know, and people have been writing such awful things about that. That it is simply not in our biology, that it is an indication of, of sexual abuse, the same as hypersexuality in some and some just go the other way. And he used to enjoy this stuff I know, I bought him his first condom so I know, he loves people, and, I feel like I am at blame somewhere for this, for this change. Sex is a thing you enjoy, it is a fun thing and he tells me that he does not even feel it? When the fuck did that happen? Where did I go wrong?”

Dean has shoved his head onto his hands perched on his knees while the man next to him rubs in back in broad sweeps. 

Will gives a sigh. If only schools carried more comprehensive material on sexuality as it did not even carry on sex, perhaps millions of people would have been not been stigmatized against. Dean obviously means well, and with his habit of internalizing and dragging every wrong doing through his river of guilt, his reaction is expected if not the correct one. Planning to educate Dean as best as he could, Will calls on him to gain his attention.

“You mentioned that he has been in relationships before and is in one currently as well, with more than one partner. You also mention that he used to enjoy sex before. Let me ask you this. Have you ever seen him having sex?” Will asks Dean.

“What, no! He’s my brother, man. Why the fuck would I?” Dean shouts back.

“Well, since we are now discussing the sexuality of someone who is not even present here, lets be as rude and prude as we want so that you may learn something new. So, you have never seen your brother have sex, never have had any explicit dialogue with him clearly stating that he was having sex, and yet you are convinced that he used to quite enjoy sex? How sure are you that he used to have sex in his previous relationships? Assuming that my points stand that you don’t really know for sure, how can you authoritatively say that your brother is not asexual, never has been and should not be at present?” Will asks pointedly.

“I have seen him with them, you know, how close he used to get, all cuddly and whatnot. And I actually saw him naked with one of them, Maddison, once,” Dean defends.

Will volleys back, “Intimacy does not explicitly indicate sexual relations just as sexual relations does not indicate one’s orientation. Do you mean to say that just because you are with your partner, a male partner that I can see, you are no longer Bi? Or that since I have had sex with women before, I am not actually gay? You cannot attach mere identities to acts and attribute them to lay under one single fit all banner Dean. People are different, their needs are different, some like the labels, some don’t. If your brother says that he is asexual, it is not your prerogative to freak out there, but to accept it. You don’t even have to understand it, or go find a list of reasons to find it acceptable so that it can assimilate better in your life, you just accept it.”

“Look, it’s not like I don’t support him or anything, but the things I found, the reasons they listed, how it could be an indication of depression, or could be the result of trauma or maybe even a masochistic tendency to punish by refusing to let themselves enjoy physical sensation because they don’t think they are worth even that bit of happiness, and yes I know, how rich that is all coming from me, but I am worried about him dammit! He is my brother and I can’t help but want him to be happy, happy like how Jo and Charlie are, happy together and damn proud of it and not afraid to show it. They are like my sisters, and then I see Sammy and I feel like he is missing out and that is not something I want,” Dean says. 

Will asks him then, “Tell me, does he look unhappy, or hurt, either physically or mentally, anything from his side that would make you take protective strives to physically remove him from his environment?”

This time Dean is silent. It is the other man who speaks. He says, in a deep voice that is quite a few octave low, “No, he does not seem hurt either physically or mentally. In fact he looks peaceful and happy, more than he did before. His current relationship status pleases him and he has even opened a facebook account to state that he is in a relationship. I saw him while he did that although he did not want me to see.”

“Cas..wha, why are you telling me this now? I have been raving and ranting for hours at home,” Dean asks perplexed as he throws his hands heavenwards. 

Cas, the man, looks calmly at Dean and says, “You did not look as if you were prepared to listen to reason.” He then calmly looks back at Will who finds himself impressed.

“So what, you have always know about asexuality?” Dean asks with an actual pout here.

“There is no sexuality for us Dean. We see souls and that is what I fell in love with. I am agendered and asexual myself, for our form holds no such distinction. However since I occupy this body, my feelings can be conveyed via physical and sexual acts that you have admitted to enjoying many times Dean. Repeatedly,” Cas ends with a smug look that is conveyed with just a twitch of his eyebrows and lips.

He turns back to Will and says, while Dean colours beautifully and sputters manically, “Gender is a not a natural construct. It is something that has been created by society in a bid to create a more resolute identity. It built itself via culture, tradition, clothes, jewelleries, laws, religion and through seizes, wars and devastation. It is not a thing, it was just an aspect of a human. But now, misdirected and misquoted and misused, gender has become a reason to fight, to discriminate, to hurt, even kill. The same with sexuality or orientation. It is not fixed, not nailed into the fabric of time, but again, people just goes around making other miserable in ways that my father would have been ashamed of.”

This time, it is Dean who rubs his back, in circles as Cas looks glumly at his shoes. He had refused to take his brown trench coat off and now seems to sink into the too large fabric. 

Will felt bad for the man, to have that much faith and conviction in fellow humans and to have it shatter so easily. He still wasn’t sure what he was, but he had already decided that he was a good damn person. 

Will turns to Dean and asks, “So Dean, what are you going to do with your brother?”

Dean clears his throat, “Ah, well, I accept him for what he is now, for what he was then and what he will be in the future. I will always support him. He shouldn’t have had to wait so many years to tell me that he was ace you know. I may not understand, but he does not deserve that because that is my problem, I am the one not understanding here. If I have any question, I will make sure to ask someone like you so that I don’t end up hurting my brother in ignorance. It will take me some time, but I will get there, and I will never not support him.”

Will smiles at the duo then, happy how the matter has resolved itself. While it had been Will who had brought up the issue of bringing in his partner for his therapy sessions, to open a dialogue between the two over the things that Dean was not able to say and those that Will assumed Cas was equally unable to say, Will now saw that Dean and Cas were perfect for each other, as much that words can be used in today’s world. Dean still had to fight instincts that went for loneliness because it was easier for Cas, and Cas had the patience and infinite grace to wait for Dean to say whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. 

Still, it was couple’s therapy, and a few questions on the topic were a must. So Will turned to the happy couple who did not require as much assistance now as he had previously thought and asked, “So, any problems you are facing in your partnership?”

Dean opened his mouth, perhaps to say that there was no problem in their almost married life, when Cas interjected with a terse ‘yes’.

Dean looked gobsmacked at that, Will himself found his mouth go a bit slack at that. He expected some lingering thoughts from Dean but not from Cas. He hastily pulled on his professional face and asked mildly, “Oh. About what?”

Cas, who was looking frankly grim at the moment, set off by the sudden pallor of Dean’s face near him, straightened up some more and in a serious tone, confessed, “Dean keeps on eating up all the pie, how do I make him eat less of them?”

A nervous cackle escapes Dean’s mouth at this and he punches Cas in his arm. And then pulls him towards himself and kisses him. Will could only look on in wonder.


	5. Chapter 5

Will sat silently in his armchair while Derek slumped into himself in the sofa. His eyes would have been red by now if he were human Will thinks. The way he had cried, loud and wet like a small child, grief stricken, desperate and alone beyond an abyss without Stiles near him. Even now, he is sniffling, trying to rub his running snot and tears into his Henley. Will tried to pass him a box of tissues that he kept around just for occasions like this. But Derek declined. He seemed to find him increasingly dirty Henley to clean his face just fine. It had been a difficult session, which dug up things that had been hidden for years. While Will only gave counselling to the human counterparts of any partnership, Stiles had been adamant that Will at least try. And who can say no to Stiles when he goes full protective mode?

While Will’s sessions usually ran for 45 minutes in total, Will had been extending his time restrictions for Derek and Stiles. This was the 7th single session that Derek had undertaken with Will. The single session lasted half an hour or so, and then Stiles would come and join them and they would delve into couple’s therapy for the next 45 minutes. The couple’s therapy tended to start by Stiles calming down a still agitated or too sad Derek and then Will would be regaled with more news of their pack while Stiles kept giving Derek calming touches and opportunities to scent him. Stiles was so good at handling Derek that by the time the session would be complete and they have to leave, Derek could sometimes make lame jokes that only Stiles could laugh heartily at. 

Derek’s single therapy sessions started when he started having vicious nightmare form which he would wake up in a blind panic and screaming. A veteran at such behaviour, Stiles had done everything he could do to help, but it didn’t help at all. And all these, just weeks before Erica and Boyd’s marriage. Erica was a beta in Derek’s pack while Boyd was a human with whom she had been in a relationship and been living together for 3 years. Boyd was a paediatrician while Erica worked as a lawyer, and the marriage had been a long time in coming. Introduced to each other by Melissa, Scott McCall’s mother, who Stiles declares is his soul brother, Erica and Boyd had clicked instantly and the rest, as they say, is a grossly overly shared history of sexual experimentation and enjoyment.

Stiles was not sure what to do with Derek and his nightmares so he asked Will during one of his single sessions with Will. He was still doing some single session, following two couples ones and Will had tentatively offered his help. Will knew that Derek was carrying a lot of guilt and repressed emotions inside him and over the months he had come to like the guy. Stiles had been very thankful and had quickly made Derek agree to the same. It had not taken Will a lot of tricks to break Derek down, and once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping it. Stiles made sure that he did not keep dwelling in his old memories and having finally shared his buried burdens, Derek was actually starting to look at peace with himself. 

Will still remembered the first time he met Derek, as he thought privately that Stiles couldn’t have picked a partner more opposite than him. Scowly McScowly, for that is how Stiles introduced Derek at first, was still not comfortable enough to take part in the sessions even though he has been there for the past 5 ones. It did not seem to deter Stiles though, who talked enough for the both, with wind milling hands and sparkly eyes that sparkled even more, if possible, whenever they landed on Derek. Will was used to one sided silence after the sessions with Dean and Cas, but Derek was an entirely differently breed, pun both intended and not. 

Not that he never spoke much, no. Derek spoke when he thought it was important and or when it pertained to the matter under discussion. It took Will a bit of a time to realise that this was not Derek being obtuse or intentionally rude, just as his scowl was not so much his emoting prowess as much as a simple physical feature. He had bushy eyebrows that sat heavy on his face and even a slight twitch made it look as if he is frowning. What Will at first took as sullen reluctance, later turned into a polite interest for whatever he would say. Derek did not like talking, and for Stiles it was not an insurmountable problem. 

Will sat through two sessions with the couple before he came to realise the amazing balance between the two given how different they were. Stiles did talk enough for two, but he never talked on behalf of the two. Stiles tended to go on tangents through his talks before returning to the original topic. Derek did not roam in his conversation, but when both talked to each other, the actual matter would be given equal attention and care by each. Will couldn’t help but be impressed by this seeing how he himself talked so less and Hannibal even more so. They were almost supernaturally in sync in most matters, but it did not mean that they did not sometimes required serious intervention.

At the moment, they were arguing hotly as to who should be the best man at Erica and Boyd’s wedding. Erica had already asked Allison to be her Maid of Honour, as well as invited both her partners, who apparently were much older than her and thus would also work as the perfect occasion to give them the third degree and booze to cool the burns they were obviously going to get from the Great Stilinski, as succinctly informed by Stiles himself, and Lydia and Kira were going to be bridesmaids, beautiful beyond compare. Boyd was yet to ask any of the boys, thus the fierce debate. 

“He is a human, and dare I saw just the other human in our pack apart from me, so it is kind of obvious, he is going to choose me, fair warning,” Stiles says to Will and Derek. “Also, if I may add, I know how to give a killer bachelor party, in a very human way, so I win by a landslide there, hurmph,” Stiles adds smugly.

Derek rolls his eyes in an almost perfect circle, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he says, “I may be a born wolf, but we have had our share of wild parties. I mean, are your forgetting Peter, who used to smuggle in wolfsbane strained liquor, and assorted fun candy, and that was when he was in school. You have heard him reminiscence about them with the manic look on his face. I have lived with him enough to know when a party is good and just how to throw it, don’t you doubt that. And Boyd may be a human, but he is marrying a were so he is obviously going to go with me. I mean I am her Alpha, who better to choose?”

Will can make out that Derek is teasing the younger man, who seems to have fallen hook line and sinker into the charade and he pulls in a huge breath and holds forth as to the many ways his logic is faulty and how he is never going to be asked. And also gives a list of reasons as to why Stiles is the obvious and better choice. 

“But you have already been selected to be the best man at Scott’s wedding to Issac. So it’s not like you will never get the chance. Just by the process of favours granted, you are already fulfilled, so that means that Boyd will ask me and then I will be the best man,” Derek answers.

“Because I know you, I know you so well, you want to be the best man because ....” here Stiles bites his lips, looking frantic and glancing at Will as if asking for directions. Will looks to Derek who is looking shocked and scared for some reason.

To clear the air, Will asks into the couple, “Do you want to finish that line right now Stiles?”

Stiles does not immediately shakes his head but he is looking at Derek in askance, for permission or the faith or the simple trust to say what he wants to and know that Derek would not take it as a personal attack. When Derek asks in a low voice, “Why do you think I want to become the best man so bad?” not looking at anyone but his own clasped hands in his lap, Stiles turns to him on the sofa and takes his hands in his.

“Because I know what you are afraid of. She... she is long dead, but you still carry such a big fear in you, of how a similar thing could happen again, under your watch, which is why you have to be so vigilant. I know you like Boyd, hell I think he is a good friend of yours, not the way Scott is as a member of your pack or Isaac is as your beta. But as a friend, and he is a human at that, a human who knows about the supernatural now, which just puts him at even more elevated risk. And you look at your pack, your pack full again not with family like it was before for you, but a full pack nonetheless, and you are acutely aware of how it can just go away just like that because it had once before,” Stiles says earnestly.

He continues, “I know that your nightmares were triggered by Erica’s wedding to Boyd, I made that out. I know that losing your pack is the ultimate nightmare for you, and now as we continue to grow, the way we are assimilating into the territory, protecting it from other predators and making peace with other packs, we are good now, we are _good_. And I know how that feels somedays, too good to be true, or even too good to be. But, you are not alone now, you don’t have to keep on fighting and guarding and looking for ways in which your new family can be harmed. We want you to enjoy this occasion. I want you to enjoy this occasion. I want you to be happy so so much.”

“So yes, I have no problems in giving over my best man crown to you, so long as you promise that you enjoy it. This is a family now, this is how we make memories, not letting the past haunt our present. So, Der, I will say nary a word if Boyd asks you, but you have to have faith in us. You have to remember how being together was. Let that be their legacy, that you can still find the joy in life and with us and with me. That you can be happy as they would have wanted you to be, without conditions and without anything in return. We just want that from you,” Stiles says to the quivering mess that he hugs to his heart tightly.

Will, still sitting in his armchair, forgotten that he is even in the room feels satisfied in a good way. Sure he has to intervene sometimes, pull them apart, make them see the issues for what they are, mere issues and not the death knell on their relationship. But sometimes, like now, when they make up so seamlessly, perhaps with the help of a little bit of his endeavours for them to be open with each other, when he sees his methods actually working so beautifully, he feels happy. How can he not, for this is the proof that he is working, that he is capable, that he is able to offer help and his help being of actual value?

He smiles widely at them as the couple gets up from the sofa, clinging to each other, looking happy and peaceful. Life is good, Will thinks, life is sometimes blindingly good.


	6. Chapter 6

Erica’s and Boyd’s wedding turned out amazing with a side blog of mortifying events. Boyd of course ended up asking his own brother to be his best man, a small detail that everyone had forgotten in a bid to be bestowed the honour themselves. Derek and Isaac were the groomsmen and they had a roaring time. Later onward, everyone got drunk to high heavens and bonded beyond reason. Erica has to finally carry Boyd bridal style to the getaway car because he got pulled into a shot war with a blue eyed dude. Turned out, all this time Allison had been dating a hunter named Sam Winchester and he has a badass brother named Dean with a badass partner who was, what exactly, no one could decipher at first. Everyone did agree that he was a boss at drinking, as he single handedly consumed half of the liquor at the wedding reception without any adverse effect. 

Allison and Sam turned out to be dating the famed psychologist Alana Bloom, who was an esteemed colleague of Lydia’s and a friend, so the previous threats to Allison about giving her dates a deep grilling fell flat on its face, for Lydia was supposed to lead that charge, and Stiles, well, got distracted. Sam was a hunter of the same calibre of Chris if not better and he was not even mock intimidated by the werewolf posturing that kept on happening around him, particularly from Scott and Isaac. Alana turned every invasive question into a psychological analysis and more than one person admitted to crying because of her later. Allison was equal parts happy and equal parts embarrassed at her friends and partners and just kept looking on fondly at the whole lot.

Considering that they had so few guests, Erica insisted that Dean and Cas stay for the wedding reception when they came in their classic black car, giving a lift to Sam to meet the girls who were coming together. With the promise of fantastic food and booze, it did not take too long or too in-depth declarations to make him and thus his partner stay. It was Stiles who found out that Cas was an angel, an actual blood and flesh, albeit borrowed blood and flesh at that, angel of the lord. That almost short circuited his brain, much to everyone’s amusement and Derek’s amused huff. Stiles asked Cas everything he could think of, obscure part of world history, how fish learned to swim, who was the worst dinosaur at hoarding and the fundamentals of winged flight. 

Everyone was awed at learning this, Erica and Scott and Isaac’s jaw hitting the ground at the revelation. Everyone was also incredibly impressed with Dean on getting to bang an actual angel. Scott for some reason kept on going up to Cas in the middle of explain whatever the heck he was explaining to Stiles that time to say cheesy angel centric lines and was very pumped at the weird answers he would receive in return. When later asked, he said he just wanted to have a reference. (A sample: Q. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? A. Yes, how did you find out?)

After Erica and Boyd finally left, making promises to send pictures of their threesomes and orgies, and the proper guests had departed, everyone remaining gathered together and got progressively drunker and drunker with the exception of Cas and Sam and Derek. A quick friendship blossomed between the three, obviously due to the fact that they had to keep the kids under check, and tended to talk lesser than others. When people started to messily make out, that is when the three officially declared the party over and steered the couples into their respective rooms. Derek offered a room to Dean and Cas as well. Cas declined, and then they disappeared in a flurry of wind, the car disappearing from its parked place too as Derek saw it vanish through the window. Sam just smiled at him and said that they liked to be loud, before leaving with Alana and Allison. 

At his next single session, Stiles of course opened with, “Dude, we saw an actual ANGEL!”and the whole hilarious celebration came out and Will was shocked at both finding out that Cas was an angel, a fact that he had been unable to find out till date, and that Alana was dating two hunters, another fact that he was not aware of. He made plans on inviting Alana and her two partners and get to know them, with good food and wine on the menu. He was sure that Hannibal will not mind whipping out some of his best dishes for the occasion. Turned out, Hannibal really did not mind and they had a fantastic dinner party later.

On Will and Hannibal’s therapy session with Lydia, after one month of Erica and Boyd’s wedding, Will brought up the fact that he was seeing Stiles, a fact that Lydia was well aware of. He also told about the fact that Stiles had regaled him and Derek over a few sessions about the wedding, where Lydia had featured in some stories as well. Will of course did not tell what Stiles have told exactly, but he let Lydia know that he was aware of her in the periphery. It was a testament to how small their world of supernatural beings were and also impressed on her the fact that overall some lines may have been crossed and thus letting the ball roll in her court as to whether she wanted to do the session or not.

Lydia took a deep breath and said, “I knew that when I sent Stiles to you, I knew that he would talk about his pack and his friends and have expressively given him the right to do so from my side, because that is how therapy. The supernatural world is small, the beings too few so I don’t see any problem in building friendly relationships between different breed of supernaturals. However, I can assure you completely that I can be perfectly professional. Knowing my friends does not mean that you know me and even before we were peers who knew each other. So if you don’t have any problem with it then let me guarantee you that I don’t have any either,” tacking on a genuine smile at the end of that line. 

Will immediately felt better, having aired his reservations and them being met with seriously. Lydia is an excellent therapist, and while she excels in providing therapy to non-human beings, she did take on a few human cases, which had intrigued her or in cases where she wanted to provide help. When it came to Will, she had openly declared that Will by itself made a unique breed with his deep empathy that makes him capable of understanding anybody and see the viewpoint and logic of any discussion. Such in depth knowledge and ability to catch on was very, very, rare. This declaration made Will like her more as it felt like she was being open with him as much as she wanted him to be open with her.

Will mostly did one on one sessions with Lydia, but a few times, no more than 3-4 times a year, he would ask permission to bring Hannibal along and Lydia would let him. This was going to such a joint couple session, not that Hannibal ever said much, preferring to talk through his problems with Will in private, but he always came when Will asked and gave his steady support whenever and however he needed it. Right now, Will held one of his hand in his hands and the weight and presence of his existence near him, reminding him that Hannibal is right there with him. 

Lydia and Will had been recently talking about how he seems to be losing his patience with some of the clients and this is making him worry. Lydia has addressed his problems and probed thoroughly as to why only some of the clients made him lose his patience and whether it was a reaction directly related to his clients, or a reaction he himself was forming with regards to some particular kinds of clients. Given that he couldn’t exactly talk about his clients and their problems directly, they had to circumnavigate the whole conversation for his emotions to finally make sense when he talked about them. 

Will says “With him, now that I remember it, I actually ended up terminating the session early, unable to continue the discussion we were having. I had never done that. And his story is not that unique as well, I still have him as my client and even now I feel a flare of impatience when he is talking during some particular moments. Which is puzzling, as I actually find him pleasant. It has not escalated to the degree that I would consider referring the client to someone else entirely, since he has come quite a long way and is comfortable with me as I am with him. So I just don’t understand...”

Lydia asks, making quick notes in her copy, “Is there any particular topic that make an appearance during the moments when you feel like you are losing your patience?” 

“I, ah, no, nothing really comes to mind. He has come from an abusive situation, where his father mentally, verbally and physically abused him and ignored him in turns and even abandoned him a few times, and he internalised things a lot. He also has a low self esteem problem and tends to redirect fault to himself. He could be paranoid at times and needs repeated reassurance for his value to be recognised. Which is a classic abused child situation, and that does not make sense to my problem, I mean my father never abused me or anything,” Will says with his brows furrowed.

“But he did ignore you,” Lydia interjects quickly. 

“No, No... He didn’t ignore me, not intentionally. I have another client in the same situation, his mother passed away and his father had to work very hard to make sure that he had food and shelter and the necessities of life and yes it is the same as me, but it was not same as being ignored. He, I, we both felt lonely as we did not have any close family or any siblings and found it extremely hard to make friends. But again, I must say my father did not ignore me, and I would know, if not then, then at least now,” Will says, while he holds tighter onto Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal in response leans more into his body and puts his arm around him.

Lydia then says in a kind voice, “Then perhaps it is not so much an ‘ignoring’ issue as much as ‘loneliness’ issue? Your first client, you have not mentioned another parent or family or even a sibling and on top of that he was abused, so he must have felt quite lonely too. The same with your second client. His father had to work hard to look after his son without any other family support and he must have been lonely too, and perhaps that is what you are reacting against?”

Hannibal, who has Will almost plastered to his chest now says with a frown, “But he is not lonely now. He has me.”

Lydia immediately returns, “Yes of course he has now, but childhood issues can have a deep and lasting impression and until it is resolved can continue to harm and even retract an individual’s development. Will may not be lonely now, but he used to be and perhaps...”

“Yes. Yes, I, I used to feel very lonely. I would try to make friends and failed at every turn, my empathy making me a freak in the eyes of my peers when I was younger. And my father was there, but he would be at work or just gone for so long, and that I eventually used to get angry at myself whenever I felt lonely. I was supposed to be a self sufficient individual, perfectly OK on my own, and yet I would try for social and emotional connections. It was in college that I made friends for the first time, me amusing them at first but I did manage to make friends. And then, then, I found Hannibal and I have never been lonely since,” Will says, pulling himself back from Hannibal’s hold and looks in his eyes with half wonder and half love.

“Neither have I,” Hannibal says in return.

Lydia smiles faintly at that. It will take some time and a few tries to purge Will of his bad and repressed memories, but with someone like Hannibal on his side and friends flanking him at every turn, she did not see why he could not learn to be happy again. After all, finding out that you can be happy and actually deserve to be happy, isn’t that we live on for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's how this story ends. Thank you everyone for your kudos and amazing comments, especially you Feral_Fic_Writer, your comments on each chapter has been absolutely inspiring. Thank you all who stuck by and I hope you enjoyed the story, I had great fun writing it. Let me know what you think by telling me here or at my tumblr evermoringlyfine, cherrios!

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure about the particulars of counselling, so this is very much fictionalised. I am sure there are loads of mistakes here, so please excuse those. In case any of them are too glaring to let pass. let me know. This one features all of my otps so yay. very much unbetaed. Thank you for reading. And please remember, kudos and comments are damn inspiring shit, so keep on giving :)


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